That's What Happens When You Don't Pay Your Bills
by Wolf McCloud-123
Summary: First Fullmetal story, so please, please be gentle... Is where Ed cannot pay for overpriced food at a fastfood restaurant, and... Well, read to find out.


That's What Happens When You Don't Pay Your Bills

A whacked-out fic by Wolf McCloud-123

A/N: How would you like it if on your quest for the Philosopher's Stone, you're forced to work in a fast-food restaraunt until you can pay your bills? Hey, do they even eat?

Note: This all started with the idea of Ed in a MacDonald's uniform.

Rating: PG -- Don't ask questions. We don't.

Genre: Humor -- You readin' this? Are YOU readin' this? There's no other story here, so you must be readin' this!

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"Here's your bill, sirs," said a waitress who was probably working at MacDonald's for the summer, laying a bill on a table. "Please, kill me now, if you have any mercy, you'll kill all the worker--" But she was cut off as the manager shot a dart into her shoulder, full of enough tranquillizer to knock out a bull elephant.

"What was she saying?" asked Al.

Ed shrugged. Then his eyes caught the price on the bill...

"What?" he blurted. "I can't pay this! All I got was a Big Mac!"

"Yeah, well we raised the prices yesterday," said a random waiter. "Now you gotta pay double for any one order."

Ed's eye twitched a couple of times. "Why you little..." he grumbled.

"Sorry, sir," shrugged the worker. Suddenly, he grabbed Ed by the shoulders, shaking him. "Please! Smuggle me out of here! The manager, he's--" He too was cut off by the dart in his shoulder, this time pumped with enough tranquillizer to put a T-rex to sleep.

"Brother, I think something's going on here..."

"Yeah, I know," cried Ed, burying his face into his hands. "They're trying to make me spend more money than I have!"

"But I don't remember you having any money..." said Al thoughtfully.

"That's not the point, Al!" said Ed hysterically, starting to hyperventilate. "The point is, now, according to the Laws of Fast-Food Joints--" he pointed to a legal document on the wall next to them, which had a list of punishments for not paying your bills-- "We have to stay here, work here, and pay off our debts so we can get outta here!"

The manager appeared next to them in a flash, making Ed leap onto one of those florescent light things above the table.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" asked the manager, a crooked smile on his face. "Can you not pay your dues, young sir?"

"No! You heard nothing!" snapped Ed from the light.

"Yes he did, Ed," said Al.

"Al, you moron..." hissed Ed.

Taking out his tranquillizer gun again, the manager quickly pumped it, then aimed at Ed's right arm. "Hold still now, y'hear? Could miss; could end up in your face. Full of more tranquillizer than necessary to bring down a parasauropholis."

The manager shot the gun, but instead of the dart lodging itself into Ed's arm and making him fall off the light, probably to his death, it bounced off of him with a small 'ping' sound, hitting a tile on the floor, which sent it careening into a window, where it bounced off of that, hit Al's head, then flew straight into a light, busting that and sending sparks everywhere. A few tables caught on fire.

"What the--" stammered the manager. "Son, how'd that happen?"

"Um... Years of... Hey look, an obvious distraction!" said Ed quickly, pointing in a random direction, thus falling off the light. "Ow!"

As the manager spun around, Ed got up, making a break for the door. Oh, and he inconsiderately left Al there, too. What a jerk.

The manager quickly found out what was going on. "You two! Stop him!"

Two waiters looked at each other, shrugged, then ran to cut off Edward.

"Hey, blonde dude!" said one teen-waiter with a cracking voice. "You can't escape! You're trapped!"

Ed thought this over for about a minute, whereas the two waiters did nothing.

"Uh... Look! A big suite of armor that moves by itself!" shouted Ed, pointing at Al.

The two waiters looked at Al, too mesmorized by the hunk of metal (sorry) to notice Ed run out the doors...

And right into a pane of glass that two workers were carrying, knocking him out.

----

When Ed woke up, he was tied up in a dark room, in a MacDonald's uniform, MacDonald's hat, and in a chair. He even had a little pin that said, 'Welcome, I'm the Fry-Boy, Edward Elric!'

That's creepy. How do they know? How do they _know?_

A shadowy figure was standing in the corner. "So, Edward... You tried to bring back the dead, did you?" it said, motioning to Ed's metal arm. "Tsk, tsk, Eddy."

Ed's eyes narrowed. "How'd you..." He gasped. "You're an alchemist! That's what those poor workers were trying to say!"

"Ohoho..." laughed the manager dementedly. "Yes, and you would make a very enviable worker... With your cool metal arm, little kids will want to come see the freaky guy in the window more often. And if you're wondering about the metal-head, we've taken care of him, as well..."

"What have you done with Al?" demanded Ed.

Al was currently a cashier, not really liking his job. But does he have a say in the matter?

A small TV clicked on near the manager, showing what Al was doing.

Ed could only gasp, disgusted.

"You fiend! Taking unsuspecting customers and turning on them!"

"Myes," said the manager thoughtfully, "But customers are so much more fun to boss around than normal workers..." His smile faded. "And if you think that for one minute that you're going to just waltz out of here, think again! You'll work here forever!" With that, he proceeded to cackle madly, what with thunder and lightning, and even a raven cawing in the background.

"Brawck! Skippy wanna cracker!" said the raven. The manager sighed as the lights flicked on, walked over to the bird, and stuffed a cracker into its mouth.

"There! Happy _now_, Skippy???" he asked cruelly.

"Brawck... Skippy has brain damage... Brawck..." squawked the bird, falling off of its perch of a small tree.

Ed stared at the bird. "Good God..." He glared at the manager. "You're a sick, sick man."

"Why, thank you," chuckled the manager. "But enough jesting; time to start your job, Fry-boy."

"Can't I be something, I dunno, that will bring more customers in? Like... Burger-Guy?" suggested Ed.

The manager thought about this for a few seconds. "Why, yes... I think that'd be for the best. But first..."

Inside the food-making-type place, Burger-Guy Wenston was flipping a burger. Suddenly, a trap door appeared beneath him, and he fell through it, never to be seen again.

"All right, so you start your job now..." the manager scribbled out 'Fry-boy' and replaced the words with 'Burger-Guy', "Burger-Guy Ed!"

-Day 1 of Ed's Job-

"Okay, sir," said a teen with acne and a crackling voice, "The first of the three H's is 'Hygiene.'" He looked at Ed's hair. "Um, sorry, sir... But..."

"What?" asked Ed grumpily, glaring up at the teen.

"Your hair is against regulations... You'll either have to put it up more or..." the teen paused.

"...No."

"What?"

"I said no. You're not going to get me to-- hey!" Ed said as some other teen stuck a magnet to his arm.

"Thanks for distracting him, Jimmy!" said the first teen, taking out a pair of sicsors. He lunged at Ed, but instead hit a stone wall between himself and the other. "Hey! That's no fair..." With that, the teen began to pout insessently.

--A few minutes later--

"The second H is... Hamburger-Flipping," said Teen #1.

"Hamburger Flipping?" asked Ed.

"No, you need to hyphonate the words."

"Oooh, Hambuger-Flipping," said Ed, full of realization. "I get it now."

"Each burger is flipped with care and precision, ensuring that the customer gets what he or she wants in every savory bite," explained Teen #1, motioning to the other burger guys.

Ed looked around, eyebrows raised. "Wasn't like that when I was eating one of your burgers..."

They walked a few more moments without talking. Then they reached the employee lounge, where the rest of the workers were sitting, reading, or laying down.

"The last H is..." started Teen #1. He took a deep breath. "HEEEEEEEELP!!!"

All the workers ran around the room in a frenzy, like hamsters trying to get out of their cages. Except with a lot more screaming and fleeing than escaping.

Suddenly, gun shot after gun shot rang out, and one by one the workers fell down. Soon, only Edward and another girl were left.

BOOM! sounded through the room as the dart hit Ed's metal arm AGAIN, flew off, hit a tile, bounced off a mirror, hit a glass door, then hit the girl in the butt. She collapsed, gasping.

Ed was now the only one in the room left standing, shifting his eyes every now and then, looking at each of the unconsious workers. Then he spotted the manager in the doorway.

"You're a sick, sick man," Ed told him again, eyes narrowed. "I quit!"

"You can't quit, Edward," said the manager, loading another dart into his gun, "Because you never signed the contract..."

--Day 2 of Ed's Job--

"I hate my life..." grumbled Ed. "I hate, hate, hate it..."

"Aw, don't say that!" said the girl from yesterday, her left eye twitching. "We're just all... HOPELESSLY stuck here for eternity... Heh... Heheh..."

Ed did a double-take on her; she had light blonde hair, and purplish eyes...

"Winry? Is that you?" he asked her.

"Yeah, George, it is me!" she replied, laughing hysterically. "How has your work day been?"

He slapped her. "Yo! It's me, Ed!"

Winry just stared at him, smiling.

"Edward Elric?"

Winry said nothing.

"The one who tried to bring his mom back...?"

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaking me for someone else," said Winry, oblivious.

With that, Ed slapped her again... With his metal hand.

"OW!" cried the girl, holding the side of her face. "GOD, Ed! Geez! Try not to be so violent out of the show!"

"Sorry, but you weren't snapping out of it," shrugged the boy.

Wenry shook her head, trying to get out of her Micky-D daze.

"What... happened?" she asked, suddenly acting as if she had woken from a dream.

"That's what I wanna know."

"Well, I came in here, bought a Grilled-Chicken Caesar Salad, couldn't pay for it, then... The manager! He's an alchemist!"

"I know," replied Ed nonchalantly. "But how'd you get all..." He quickly crossed his eyes. "'Oh, look at me! I LOOOOVE MacDonald's! I'd work here forever!'" he mocked in a girly voice, imitating Winry quite accurately.

She stared at him. "Okay, I get it. I was... in a trans of some sort!"

"Whatever it was, we've gotta find out what the manager is doing to... do that!" said Ed, sounding stupid.

"Ya THINK, Einstein?"

A Welsh corgi barked near the deep-fryer. Ed pushed him in, frying the dog.

----

(insert Mission Impossible music)

Ed looked around a corner, looking around. Then he lifted up a walkie-talkie he had made, speaking into it.

"Winry? You there?"

"Yeah..."

"Where's there?"

"By Al... I talked the manager into promoting me to Co-Cashier today... So now I work next to Al," explained Winry.

Ed did a double-take, looking at the cash registers. Sure enough, there was Winry, right next to Al.

"I gotta stop doin' that," he mumbled, rubbing his neck; "I'll get whiplash..." His look got serious, however, when he focused his mind back onto the real reason he was there - to stop the manager! (insert cheesy triumphant music)

"Who is _doing_ that???" asked Ed to nobody in particular, glaring at the ceiling as the triumphant music shorted out.

"Sorry," grunted a familiar voice.

"Roy? What the..." gasped Ed.

"Not now, Shorty!" whispered Roy from the ceiling, where he was holding a portable boom box; he held a CD in his other hand, which read: "Songs of the Triumphant... Well, Triumphant Trax!" "You need to kill -- I mean, KEEEEL the manager!"

"What's his name?"

"...It's... Susan."

Ed laughed nervously. "It's... what?" he coughed.

"Susan. Okay, so he doesn't have the best name in the world, but..."

"It's a woman, isn't it?"

Roy hung his head in shame. "Yes..."

"You slept with her, didn't you?"

The Colonel shifted uncomfortably, coughing nervously. "Mm. Yeah."

"For shame," clucked Ed, sounding a lot like his mother, "You really don't know what that could bring about--"

"Okay, FullMENTAL," grumbled Roy. "I don't care how much diologue from the author's Sex Ed class you're going to use, but I need to get back to uh, NOT being a brain-dead employee!"

It took a moment for Ed to register this insult fully. "Hey!"

But Roy was already gone, never more to torment the Fullmetal Alchemist... At least not until their next encounter, eh?

The boy made a few whimpering/breathing sounds as he read the last sentence.

"Ed? Are you all right?" asked Winry's voice over the crackling radio.

"Yeah," sniffed Ed, a tear forming in his eye, "I'm fine. Just... Don't talk to me for a while, kay?"

Winry paused. "Whatever you say, Edward..."

--Day 3 of Ed'--

"Oh, NO ya don't! We've gotta finish that scene, 'else the readers will be oh-so-confused," said Roy suavely, erasing the time transition.

"...Just don't come crying to me when you lose that arm. Again," finished Winry.

Ed stared at the CB. "...What?"

"I mean - I can't look into the future," Winry quickly covered up for herself, "That's ridiculous; you're ridiculous, Ed!" This triggered a series of nervous laughs from the girl.

Diciding not to ask stupid questions, Ed sighed dismally, turned the volume of the radio down, then put it into his pocket.

"Sometimes... There's no way to tell what that girl's thinkin'..." he mused to himself, sighing again.

"Yes there is!" shouted the author, but nobody heard it, because it was coming from the employee lounge, which was now heavily guarded.

-5 -count 'em- _5_ minutes later!-

Ed had just been promoted up to Mop-Boy, and was currently mopping near the utility closet by the employee lounge. He sighed, leaning on the mop.

Winry was walking towards the lounge, sighing. She spotted the mop.

"Give me the mop," she demanded, holding out a hand.

"What?"

"You sure say that a lot. I mean - give me the mop. I've just been demoted to Mop-Girl, and I need a mop."

"But this isn't just any mop," explained Ed. "It's _my_ mop!"

"I don't care!" Winry nearly screamed. She grabbed the mop's handle, trying to pull it away from her childhood 'friend.' Pfft.

After a brief struggle, Janitor Billy-Bob came out of the utility closet...

And Ed and Winry fell inside, unnoticed by the janitor, then locked inside. How unwitting of them. It was very dark... And, as if in a cartoon (blatant pun), their eyes were the only things visible.

"Well, this is grrreat," growled Ed, sounding a lot like a cat. My cat, actually... "We're stuck in a closet. And could you get offa me? Please? You're crushing me!"

"Oh, shut up," grumbled Winry, "I don't like it anymore than you do, so shove it!"

Ed gave Winry an odd look, although she couldn't see it. "Are you PMS-ing, by chance?"

-Outside the closet-

WHAP!!! sounded throughout the restaurant, fallowed by a girly scream.

-The closet-

Ed sniffled pathetically, rubbing the sore, not-visibly red spot on the left side of his face.

"That hurt," he wimpered, sounding a lot like a scared puppy.

...What is it with me and relating Ed to animals? Do I find _amusing_ to make him suffer? And where does Al fit in with all of this? You haven't heard about him since... a page or two ago! GEEZ. I need to get back on track.

Majorly.

"That comment was uncalled for!" complained Winry, trying to get in a more comfortable position, so she could sit up on her Ed-cushion. But she found that the brooms above her hindered this greatly.

(I must warn you... This next scene is in Ed's POV, the whole way through...)

Edward moaned from beneath the taller girl's weight. 'I swear,' he thought, 'It's like being under an elephant! I thought she worked out... Maybe she doesn't... Hey, does that say...? 'Edward moaned from beneath the... _taller girl's_ weight...? WTF? Does the author think I'm... _short?_ I mean, I know she does, but this is ridiculous! Man, if I didn't take after my dad... He was so short... Sure, in those pictures, he practically towers above Mom, but... he stood on soap boxes! He said he stopped growing when he was... fifteen! Oh my... I stopped growing at eleven!

And that isn't good... Or is it?

No, no, I'm pretty sure that's bad. I think... Guh! I need to stop thinking so much... It's hurting my brain...

Speaking of brains, thanks a lot, Dad! You gave me yours! I hate you so much...

Wait. (insert five blinks of the cursor)

I'm practically the Jimmy Neutron of the anime world, now that that stupid mutt from Cowboy Bebop's gone! FWAHAHAHAHA!!!

(Note: This, being in Ed's POV, is also in his opinion, thank you very much; I love Ein.)

So in other words... Dad was... smart? Mathematically NOT impaired? Opposite the author?

(in amazed tone) Wooow...

I wish Winry would get off of me. She is sooo weighty, ya know? GAWD, she needs to work out...

(Not Ed's POV)

Winry was now absentmindedly staring out of the keyhole. MacDonald's was now... closing! (BUM BUM BUUUUM!!!)

"Please, please," she begged, "Someone open the door!"

"Actually," chuckled Ed. "That would be kinda bad, ya know? Finding two fifteen-year-olds in a closet, during closing time..."

Winry took a moment to run this through her brain a couple of times. She gasped, hitting him again. "You perverted little freak! If I'm going to be stuck in this closet with a pedophile..."

"Oh, please Dear Lord," mumbled Ed insanely, "Make her stop!"

"Are you even listening to me???"

--Day 3 of Ed's Job--

Ed and Winry's snoring drifted through the closet that morning, as both were asleep. Since the closet was jam packed full of junk, there was nowhere to spread out...

And how they were sleeping looked really, REALLY awkward.

"All by myself..." sang Ed groggily, opening one eye. "Huh? Where am I?"

"You're in the closet, you doofus," muttered Winry sleepily, stretching and hitting Ed in the chin with her elbow. "We got stuck here last night..."

"Mmm..." mmm'd Ed, remembering what had happened. "I hate this situation."

"So does every non EdxWinry author out there..." mumbled Winry. She yawned. Right in Ed's face.

"Ugh, go brush your teeth," Edward comanded of her.

"I would if I could, but since I can't I won't," said Winry matter-of-factly.

Suddenly the door opened to see exactly HOW Winry was on top of -poor- Ed...

"Dude, that has to be the most, MOST innuendos position I have EVER seen!" said the first teen in wonder.

"Hey, can you trade me girlfriends?" asked the second.

At the exact same time that Ed shouted, "She's not my girlfriend, punk!", Winry shrieked, "I'd never be his girlfriend in a billion years!"

But we all know the truth, don't we? I'm not exactly sure what truth I'm talking about, but it's THE TRUTH.

The next action happened in under five seconds, but it seemed to take forever:

If looks could kill, Ed's would've had them maimed in a gutter on the side of the highway right now. He stood up, and, as Winry fell off of him, he grabbed her arm.

"NOOOOOO-!" she yelled, in a distorted voice, thanks to the slo-mo button.

Edward reeled back, whipping Winry around, then flung her at the two teens. Everything returned to normal as she hit them with the force of a major-league baseball being thrown by Babe Ruth.

"Ugh..." groaned Winry, holding her head as she sat up. "Edward Elric! How DARE you throw me like that??? Come now, me? A LADY???"

"Some lady!" shouted Ed, stomping off to mop the floors again.

--5 hours later--

"I'm hungry!" moaned Fury from the back seat of an SUV that had just pulled into the parking lot of MacDonald's.

"That's why we stopped," explained Hawkeye, almost emotionlessly.

Roy glared at the building. He still hadn't told the others about his... Little visit to the fast-food restaurant. (scoffs) Little... How cruel!

"Come on, Roy!" pleaded Havoc annoyingly, a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. "It isn't as though if we go in there, you'll somehow blow up the building in a freak snapping accident, huh?"

The other three stared at him.

"...What?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Fury, ignoring his colleague's idiocy. At least, that's what they (the whole military) could pass it off as; since Havoc rarely said anything of value these days, it just went to show how 'stupid' he was. Of course, if they knew how many times people knowing what would happen in the future was passed off as being idiotic, they would heed his warning...

I guess. But, everyone's stupid at one point or another in their lives, huh?

I guess. (shrugs) Can't all be perfect.

As the four approached the counter, they noticed a familiar hunk of armor standing at the cash register...

"Alphonse? Is that... you?" asked Havoc stupidly, cocking his head at the suite of armor.

Al nodded, then sighed. "What will your order be...?"

"Three Big Macs," said Riza, before anyone else could say a word, "And a Grilled-Chicken Caesar Salad."

"$10. 99, ma'am," sighed Al again.

After Hawkeye laid the money on the desk, she turned around to go stake out a table for the others.

Roy sighed. Was it just him, or was Riza PMS-ing again? She sure did seem to do that a lot. Poor Mustang... With his perfect dental hygiene...

"So... When're the orders gonna be ready?" asked Fury, breaking a long and awkward silence.

"'Bout... ten minutes," said Al. "I suggest you go sit down, sirs."

"He's bein' awful formal," said Havoc, doing the 'crazy' sign with his finger.

--At their table--

"...And so, then I said, ya know what I said?" asked Fury.

"What'd ya say?" asked Hawkeye sarcastically.

"I said, 'Hey, punk! Ya wanna see what's in my picnic basket?'" He and Havoc exploded into fits of hysterical laughter, while Hawkeye stifled a laugh, and Roy stared blankly out a window.

Hmm. Roy sure isn't saying much, is he?

Oh well. I'm sure nobody thinks much of it.

...Do you?

Suddenly, as if fate was trying to bite him in the ass for not saving Ed when he had the chance, he got a song stuck in his head.

A really catchy song, too. You know, 'Smoke on the Water,' by Deep Purple? Yeah. That song.

He held his fingers up, in a familiar position.

Hawkeye's eyes widened as she noticed it. Havoc and Fury's laughter died down, then they looked at Roy's hand as well.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!" they yelled in perfect unison, reaching out to stop the Colonel from snapping... But it was too late...

--Outside--

A large mushroom cloud formed where MacDonald's used to be, rubble shooting in every direction as the building exploded in the middle of the city. All that was left of the restaurant were several surprised people standing where the place used to be.

Ed coughed, and all the ash flew off of him in a thick black cloud.

Riza twitched. Havoc fell over. Fury didn't move.

A completely black Winry (except for her eyes) glared at Ed, snatching the mop from his hands.

"Wasn't my fault," he squeaked, before fainting.

Thus ends the labour-force union that was MacDonald's! The manager, unfortunately, happened to be what the Colonel was pointing his fingers at when the building ignited, and was promptly disintigrated in a split second. The workers ran off to tell their legacy to the innocents, so they wouldn't be taken in by MacDonald's flashy ads and ghetto commercials.

The aftermath:

Ed and Al went off to search for the Philosopher's Stone some more. Right now, they're getting ready for the Epilogue of this story.

Winry returned to their hometown, with thoughts to never, EVER trust Edward EVER again.

Roy Mustang was dubbed an idiot by his fellow men-in-arms, and never went to a fast-food restaurant. Ever again.

Riza Hawkeye noticed how clichéd her name was, so she wrote a book: Why I Have Self-Esteem Problems.

Fury and Havoc joined a Self-Help club two weeks later, to help recover their 3rd-degree burns.

Skippy lived a long, happy life with Winry, but annoyed her to no end. He was four when he died.

On top of the MacDonald's sight was built a glorious new restaurant: Wendy's!

And that, my friends, is why we have Wendy's restaurants.

(Note: None of the events in this story are real. If you believe they are, well... Get some help, please.)

----------

Epilogue -

Ed and Al stared at the building in front of them. It's classy red-white-and-blue patterns made them feel nauseous, but they approached it anyhow.

"Told you that we should've taken a pencil before we left Headquarters..." mused Al annoyingly.

"Shut up, Al," grumbled Ed.

He had a notepad. He remembered THAT. But how could he forget a frikkin' PENCIL???

-10 minutes later-

At the check-out desk, Ed laid the pencil down begrudgingly in front of the casheer.

"That'll be two dollars, sir," she said in an annoyingly sweet voice.

Ed searched his pockets...

"Uh-oh..."

Al looked at his older brother. "What is it, Ed?"

"Al, do you have any money?" he asked, his face flushing.

"...No. Why? Don't you?"

"Sir, if you can't pay, you'll have to work here for a while..." said the woman, giving him a sentimental look.

Ed's eye twitched. Not once, but TWICE. Then he raised his head to look at the heavens, filled his lungs with air...

'If you're real God,' he thought, 'Please, smite me now...'

"WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??????????????" echoed throughout the whole country-side, startling all people who heard it.

And so begins a new challenge for the dear Elric brothers...

(END)

(stares at her newest story)

First FMA story... And it's that long? Wow. I need to lay off the sugar there for a few days. Anyway, if any of you noticed that the ending was a preview to a POSSIBLE sequel, well...

Cookies to all of you! (throws out cookies to the people in the audience)

Good-night! (lights go out) Um, literally, I guess...


End file.
